I Was a Dad Once
by Clover64
Summary: The Doctor has never been one to dwell upon the past, but it seems he will forever be haunted by the woman and child he loved and lost. This is their story. TenAprilOC with some faint vestiges of TenRose thrown in for good measure. R&R!
1. Chapter 1: Haunted

**Author's Notes:** Alright, I already know what you're thinking. 'Oh no, not another Mary-Sue fic!' but I'm here to tell you that you have nothing to fear, because, rest assured, the moment this fic becomes a Mary-Sue fic is the moment I stop writing it. That being said, this is a story that was largely spun off the episode "Fear Her" from Doctor Who where he makes a comment in one part of it about being a dad. Additionally, this entire thing is for a 100 fic challenge over at **100situations** at Livejournal. Please, read and review!

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Doctor Who (as much as I'd like to) or anything related to him, though I do own the character April Robins.

- - -

"I was a dad once..."

"What did you just say?"

But the Doctor, the last of the Time Lords, ignored the query of his companion, Rose Tyler, and moved away from the subject altogether by focusing back on what they were originally doing.

However, the topic of which he'd sworn to himself never to speak or think of again had been breached and reopened. The memories flooded back into his intelligent mind, causing his two hearts to beat faster, to ache with a more intense pain. It wasn't physical pain he felt, though, no...it was simply an emotional one. But it burned him all the same, and shook him to the core.

The Doctor did not like thinking about the past. Actually, that wasn't entirely true. He had no qualms with the past in general...it was _his_ own past that bothered him. It was _his_ own personal faults that ate away at his conscience. It was _his _own failures that haunted him during the dark, silent hours of the night.

Yes, the Doctor was troubled. But rarely did anyone notice it due to his carefully crafted cheerful facade. By first glance, one would barely be able to tell how much this man had seen, how much he'd been through. It was only upon further inspection that one came to find that the Doctor was not all he appeared to be...and considerably a lot more than they could comprehend.

There were deep scars upon the Time Lord's soul, cuts that bled easily and all too frequently, reopened by the slightest word or action. As much as he tried to deny and ignore it...he was a very broken and lonely man.

Thinking back, he found that he could only blame himself for his misery. All the decisions he had made, albeit some seemed inevitable, he had made them out of his own accord. Despite the guilt he felt, he really could not lay the blame on anyone else. He _wouldn't_ lay the blame on anyone else.

Time and time again...it seemed as if it all came down upon the Doctor's shoulders.

In his defense, however, protecting time and space was not the easiest job...but it was _his_ job. It was his cross to bear, it was his burden, and he did it without a single complaint or grumble.

But that did not mean he was any less lonely. In fact, he often preferred traveling with others in his ship, the TARDIS, just to stifle the overwhelming sense of loneliness. After all, he _was_ a Time Lord...and the last of his kind.

Now that his mind was on the subject of the past, _his_ past to be specific, the memories of a woman long since gone began to surface, much to his personal dismay.

It all began back during his transformation into his tenth regeneration. Rose had not anticipated him regenerating--as all Time Lords do once they're mortally wounded--instead of dying. While it saved him, it also changed how he looked physically...which ended up presenting some difficulties for his relationship with Rose.

Mainly, because she didn't believe he was still the Doctor. She left him then, returning to her home on earth, to try and live a relatively normal life. Meanwhile, the Doctor had been left all alone...again.

That is, until he met _her._

Taking a slow, measured breath, the Doctor closed his eyes...allowing the memory of her to wash over him.

The memory of the day he had met her, that fateful day, would forever be imprinted upon his mind, soul...and heart.

---

"Open, open, open!" the Doctor murmured incessantly as he continued to bang on the apartment door, nervously glancing down the hallway. With his free hand, he touched the hilt of his sonic screwdriver, though he'd rather not use it lest he be found out as a non-human...he'd use it if he had no other choice.

He glanced down the hallway once more, noticing that there was still no sign of his hunter. He often wondered how he kept getting himself into these situations but--more often than not--he didn't have enough time to dwell on it. Now was on such time.

He heard the tiny skittering of small feet, ad began to bang more loudly.

All he got in return, however, was an angry, "Get away from my door, you loon!"

Sighing, he tried another door as the sound of approaching footsteps increased and gradually became louder. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" he growled.

"Hello?" a voice from behind him queried, causing the Doctor to spin around on the heels of his feet quickly.

"Uhm...hello!" he greeted cheerfully. "Hate to bother you, but would you mind if I checked your apartment briefly? I'm with the NAA..."

She gave him a blank look. "The what?"

The Doctor warily looked down the hallway, and saw the shadows of his adversaries growing larger on the wall. "No time to explain! In we go!"

Grabbing her arm gently, the Doctor pulled both of them inside the woman's modest apartment, closing and locking the door behind them. Once inside, the woman grabbed a gun out of a small drawer, and pointed it at the Doctor.

"Who are you and what do you want?" she asked him.

It was obvious that she was afraid--he could see it in her eyes--and it was also obvious that she knew how to use the gun in her hands due to the comfortable, steady way with which she held it. The Doctor couldn't blame her, of course, after all, he was a strange man who had basically just burst into her apartment.

"My name's John Smith, or Mr. Smith." He slowly, so as not to startle her, drew his psychic paper out and showed it to her? "See? I'm with the National Apartment Association...here to check for structural damage. Yes? Yes."

She looked suspicious. "I've never heard of the NAA."

The Doctor shrugged. "Not surprising. We're overworked and underpaid."

Glancing once more at his psychic paper, which appeared to her as appropriate NAA credentials, she nodded and put her gun away. "Sorry," she apologized, brushing some brown strands of hair out of her face. "You just scared me a bit. It isn't every day that people burst into my home. I didn't mean to pull a gun on you. It's just, well, L.A. isn't the friendliest city, y'know?"

The Doctor furrowed his brows. "L.A., you say? As in Los Angeles? As in we're _in_ Los Angeles?"

"Yeah..." she said slowly, giving him a look halfway between curiosity and condescension. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"Was it the hair that gave it away? I'm still getting used to it myself..." he said, running a hand through his scruffy brown hair.

"It's the accent," she told him, as if it were obvious. "You're from England, yeah?"

He wasn't really, but she didn't need to know that. "Yes."

She smiled. "I thought so. Anyway, shouldn't you be looking around for--"

"Sssh!" he hushed her, peeking out of the door hole.

"What is--?"

Before she could finish her question, the Doctor had his hand over her mouth, and was drawing her away from the door. "Quiet," he whispered to her.

Surprisingly, she remained quiet, probably sensing the danger, as the scurrying feet rushed past the door. After a few long moments, the footsteps died down, and the Doctor released her, much to her relief.

"What in the world was that?!" she demanded.

Taking one last look down the corridor by peeking his head out of the door, the Doctor replied, "Iordes."

"What?"

"Iordes," he repeated, closing the door again. "Subliminal beings that feed off of information. Books, movies, plays, music...they absorb it, and it sustains them. Most Iordes keep to themselves, but there are some--like those ones that just went past--that are bred to be hunters. They use all the information they possess to allow themselves to track their prey, anticipating their actions, and they're quite good at it too...unfortunately for me."

"They're great at trivia games, though," he added as an afterthought, smiling as if his life wasn't in mortal peril.

It took a few moments for the woman to process everything he had said because he talked so quickly. Finally, she asked, "Who _are_ you?"

"I'm the Doctor?"

"Doctor who?"

He gave her an amused smile. "I get that a lot. It's just the Doctor."

"Just 'the Doctor'?" she looked confused. "People actually call you that?"

"Yep!" he said, popping the p at the end of the word.

"You are a strange man," she told him.

His grin widened. "I get that a lot too."

He headed for the door, speaking the entire time. "Anyway, thank you for your help. Goodbye and--"

"Wait," she stopped him. "Aren't you going to check for structural damage or something?"

"About that..." he began, scratching the back of his head. "You see, I'm not really from the NAA. Not even sure if that exists, actually."

Just as he reached the door, there was a knock on it. The Doctor all but leapt back from it, with his sonic screwdriver in hand. The knocking increased and the woman watched the growing fear in the man's eyes as he stepped away from the door.

He looked to her then, with a look of almost pleading in his eyes. She didn't know why, but for that moment, she believed every word he had said.

She opened the door to three burly men in police uniforms. They all wore dark sunglasses over their eyes and a peculiar-looking watch on their wrists. They all had stoic expressions on their faces as they turned their heads towards her.

"Hello? Can I help you, officers?" she asked innocently, keeping the fear from her voice.

The largest of the three spoke first. "We are looking for a man. Have you seen him?"

"There are lots of men in Los Angeles. Can you be more specific?"

"he has brown hair, brown eyes, and goes by the name of Mr. Smith or the Doctor," the officer replied in a somewhat mechanical voice. "Have you seen him?"

The Doctor held his breath on the other side of the door, waiting for her reply...and then to be apprehended, and ultimately executed.

"Nope," she said after an interval of silence.

"Are you certain?"

"I'm pretty sure I'd notice if a man claiming to be a doctor was walking around here," she told them with feigned confidence. "I have this ache in my neck and--"

"That will be all," the officer said. "If you find him, contact this number." He handed her a small card.

"I'll be sure to do that," and then she added, "Oh, but if you find him first, let him know I have this ache in my--"

"That will be _all_," the officers repeated, the three departing then, much to the Doctor's relief.

As soon as she closed the door, the Doctor practically jumped her. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"You owe me," she pointed out, repressing the urge to smile.

"Of course, yes, right!" he exclaimed vigorously. "By the by, what's your name?"

"April," she replied. "April Robins."

"Like the bird?" he asked excitedly, still just thankful to be alive.

"Uhm...sure."

"Fantastic!" he grinned cheekily. "Nice to meet you, April Robins!"

His good countenance was beginning to rub off on her despite her attempt to remain serious. "So, Doctor, care to tell me why the cops are after you?"

"They're not police officers," he assured her. "They're Iordes."

"But--" she began.

"Iordes are adept at changing their appearance; they're actually nothing more than large worms, really," he told her. "They were wearing watches, right?"

She nodded. "Yes..."

"Those watches allow them to imitate any species they encounter, part of their abilities as information gatherers. Quite useful too!" he nodded in thought.

"So let me get this straight: they're worms that can pass off as humans?"

"Yep! Pretty impressive, eh?"

"Not exactly the word I'd use..." she murmured, before a thought hit her. "Wait. Are you talking about aliens?"

The Doctor deadpanned. "Not exactly the word I'd use..." he repeated what she'd said.

"You're one of those crazy people, aren't you?" she asked, suddenly. "Figures!"

She moved towards the phone, card in hand, but he grabbed her arm before she could reach it. "What if I could prove to you that I'm not crazy? What if could prove I'm completely sane?" he paused, adding, "Or relatively sane, anyway."

There was hesitation in her eyes, but finally, she agreed. "Fine. But I'm bringing my gun if you try anything."

Amusement danced in the depths of his eyes as he replied, "Works for me!" and led her off down the hallway, making sure not to run into any Iordes on the way.

- - -

**A/N: **Please review! Any constructive critiscm would help! I'm always looking to improve! Oh, but please, no flames. Flames are a waste of both your time and mine. Thanks.


	2. Chapter 2: Discover

**Author's Notes: **Here's the next chapter! I really encourage y'all to read it, and review it. Thanks to the readers who have already reviewed it!

- - -

"That's not possible."

The Doctor grinned. "It isn't?"

"That--it--it's just _not_ possible!" April stammered, as she walked around the outside of the TARDIS. "It's just a box, but..."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, thoroughly amused by her reaction, while she continued to examine the TARDIS. While on the outside it looked like an old police call box, on the inside it was a whole different world. For April, it was as if she was stepping into an entirely different dimension and time.

And, to a degree, she was.

"How is that possible?" she queried aloud mildly frustrated by her inability to figure it out, peeking her head inside the ship. "It can't be. It's just not physically possible."

"Physics were always relative, anyway," the Doctor commented lightly.

"Maybe for you, whoever--or _what_ever--you are. But we have rules about stuff like this and--and...how is that _possible_?!"

The Doctor shrugged. "Rules were always relative too. For me, anyway." He winked at her as he moved into the TARDIS. "I'm a rebel!"

"No, you're crazy!" she accused. "This has to be some sort of a trick or something!"

"No tricks here," he assured her. "Just good ol' fashioned Time Lord science!"

"Time Lord science--?"

"It's bigger on the inside!" he exclaimed as he began to fiddle with some controls.

She shook her head, rubbing her eyes to make sure what she was seeing wasn't simple a trick of her eyes. But when she looked again, the ship was still there...and the strange man was still messing with the controls with a silly grin on his face.

After a moment, he remembered she was still there. "Well, don't just stand there. Come in!"

"You've got to be kidding me," she said with humor in her tone. "There is no way I'm getting in this--this..."

"TARDIS," he supplied.

"What?"

As if rehearsing for a play, he cleared his throat and said, "It stands for Time and Relative Dimension in Space...and it's perfectly safe! Nothing to worry about!"

"It's not the ship I'm worried most about," she mumbled under her breath.

He looked up. "What was that?"

"Nothing," she said, adding, "You have fun with your little ship thing--"

"--TARDIS."

"Okay, TARDIS. Have fun with your _TARDIS_, I'm going to go..." she turned to leave.

"Wait!" he called to her, running after her.

She turned to face him. "What?"

"One trip," he said. "Let me take you on one trip...to prove I'm being honest."

"One trip?" she paused. "No way."

"Aww, c'mon! Live a little!" he said in a jovial and persuasive tone.

"No way! I don't even know you!"

"You can trust me!"

"Can I?" she asked skeptically.

His cheerful facade fell, and a serious, solemn expression appeared on his face. In a vehement tone, he told her, "You can trust me."

Her features softened. "I'm sorry, but there's no way I can be sure of that."

The Doctor's face fell. "Please? One trip, that's all."

As she looked into his face, trying to decipher any deception in his handsome face, she realized that he was being completely sincere. In fact, he looked almost pleading. Something told her that this man was more lonely than crazy.

"I'm sorry," she repeated apologetically. "I can't."

He straightened up then, nodding. "Of course. Sorry, didn't mean to impose."

"Goodbye," she said, leaving.

"Goodbye!" he replied with a forced smile, entering the TARDIS and closing the door behind him.

Within moments, a whirring sound unlike any sound ever heard on earth before sounded in the air. April looked back just in time to see the police box seemingly disappearing into thin air. Unbelieving of what she was seeing, she rushed back and felt the area where the machine had been. Surprisingly, there was not a vestige left of it or the Doctor.

"I need more sleep," she concluded as she walked back to her apartment, unaware that she was being followed.

Upon entering her room, a knock soon followed and she opened the door. Before she had a chance to react, she was forced against the wall by rough hands.

"What the--?!"

"Where is the Doctor?" the police officer from before barked.

"I told you before...I don't know!"

The police officer narrowed his eyes. "You are lying, and now we will rip the information from you."

April's eyes widened in disbelief and terror. Maybe the Doctor had been right? Maybe these police officers weren't really human after all? Either way, she was in a huge spot of trouble now. "Please, I'll tell you whatever you want to know! I'll--"

She cut off mid-sentence as the beings in front of transformed into white, worm-like creatures, sporting more legs and more arms than she could count. In fact, they reminded her of centipedes...only a considerable amount larger. And she'd always hated bugs.

"Your information will be assimilated," the creature informed her darkly.

"What? No 20 Questions? Where's the fun in that?" came a voice from the doorway.

April turned in surprise and saw a man wearing a long, brown trench coat, with scruffy brown hair, and a smile on his face. "The Doctor!" she whispered, partially in relief. She trusted him more than these things.

All the creatures turned and looked at the Doctor. "You are the Doctor."

He smiled happily. "Am I? I suppose I am! Pleasure to meet you all...but really, there's no need to feast on this girl. It's obvious she doesn't know much. Her brain waves are probably miniscule compared to mine...and anyway! Now you have me," his grin only increased as he talked.

"The girl is nothing," the head Iorde said. "You will come with us."

The Doctor's expression suddenly went completely serious. "Let her go first."

"You will come with us now!"

"No," he replied obstinately. "Not until she is safe."

"We will kill her, and then you will come with us," the Iorde stated.

The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver, and pointed it at the Iordes. "You will let her go _now_," he said in a commanding, albeit a bit uncharacteristically rough, voice.

"Doctor!" April called to him pleadingly.

"Quiet, April," he said quickly, keeping his attention on his adversaries.

"Identifying weapon as a sonic screwdriver," a smaller Iorde supplied. "Weapon is minimal threat."

"That's what you think," the Doctor said with a dangerous glint in his eyes...as he pressed a button on it.

It suddenly turned on all the electronics in the apartments: every TV, radio, lamp. It was all on, and it was blaring loudly. The Iordes cried out in pain, collapsing due to the extremity of it, while the Doctor grabbed April's hand and cried, "Run!"

And they did.

However, as soon as they reached the TARDIS, April got cold feet. "I can't go in there."

Turning and gripping her by her forearms, the Doctor said, "I promise no harm will come to you if you go in there...but I can't make that promise if you stay here."

"But--" she began to protest.

"We don't have time!" he pressed. "Please. I'm asking you to trust me...just for once!"

April glanced once backwards, then nodded. "Alright."

The Doctor smiled. "Alright! Here we go then!"

And they both entered the safety of the TARDIS.

- - -

**A/N: **Save a Time Lord, review!


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